


What's a Little Hate Sex Between Enemies?

by chickenlivesinpumpkin



Series: It Started in the Shower [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Draco, Dirty Talk, M/M, Sleepy Sex, Somnophilia, Top Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-08
Updated: 2014-05-08
Packaged: 2018-01-23 23:54:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1584077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chickenlivesinpumpkin/pseuds/chickenlivesinpumpkin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry's trying to reassure Ron and Hermione that Malfoy won't be staying at Grimmauld Place while they hunt for horcruxes, but that's a hard argument to make when he's having a hard time keeping his hands to himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What's a Little Hate Sex Between Enemies?

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own any of this, and I'm making no money from it. Sadly.

 

 

Harry had expected Ron and Hermione to take this a little differently. Yelling from Ron, confusion and worry from Hermione. Instead, he was getting mad laughter from both of them.

“Really?” he asked, sometime after the hilarity passed five minutes.

“Did you see Malfoy’s face?” Ron asked Hermione for the hundredth time, between gasping breaths.

“I never thought life could be this good,” Hermione managed, tears dripping from her eyes.

“And that yelp!” Ron convulsed forward so hard at the memory that he hit his head on the kitchen table. He didn’t seem to notice, although Hermione pointed at him and laughed still more.

Harry sighed.

He let them wind down as he slowly doused a bagel with cream cheese and ate it. They were sitting in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, in the process of looking for horcruxes. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how you looked at it), while Hermione and Ron had gone to check in with Lupin about some information, Harry had come across a naked Draco Malfoy in his shower.

And proceeded to shag him senseless.

At least, until Hermione and Ron had walked in and killed the afterglow. Still, at least someone was enjoying the aftermath, he thought as his best friends all but fell out of their chairs laughing at the thought of Harry fucking Malfoy in the hallway.

He drank some tea. Tried to ignore the guffaws that slowly became giggles that became chuckles. Finally, red-faced, they subsided, Hermione with the hiccups.

“So,” Ron said, in a reasonable approximation of calm, “How’d that happen exactly?”

“Oh, are we done making fun?” Harry asked.

“For now, I think.” Ron rubbed his stomach. “Bit sore from all that.”

“Your pain saddens me,” Harry said sarcastically, making Ron grin.

“Come on, Harry. What did you think was going to happen? You’d shag Malfoy and we’d all just be friends and hold hands and dance through a field?”

“Preferably a field with unicorns,” Hermione said, sipping water to get rid of her hiccups.

“And wildflowers,” Ron added.

“So, what did happen?” Hermione asked.

Harry bit his lip. “The shower was running when I got up. I knew you guys were gone, so I went in to see who it was, and Malfoy was…”

 _Wanking._ Harry blushed a little, remembering the sight of that slim body, pale skin flushed from hot water, one hand moving sinuously over the hard, perfect cock…

Ron and Hermione both had their eyebrows in their hair at the way Harry had trailed off.

“He was what?” Ron asked, his tone making it clear that he knew exactly what Malfoy had been doing—what all teenage boys did in the shower, ever since indoor plumbing became a thing. Hermione blinked for a moment, frowned, and then:

“Oh!” She lifted a hand, giggled a bit. “He was…”

Even Harry’s lips quirked. “Yes, all right? And he looked…ahem. We don’t really need to discuss that part, do we?”

“God, no!” Ron said.

“Absolutely,” Hermione said. “Malfoy is a topic of much discussion among the girls of Hogwarts. He’s surprisingly sexy for a prat.”

“Amen,” Harry said under his breath.

She ignored the appalled look Ron gave her and took another sip of water. “There are plenty of girls who like aristocratic, rich, attractive young men in nice clothing who smell good and treat people like dirt. Obviously that’s not my type. Although he seems like he would have nice skin.”

“Hermione!” Ron said.

Harry grinned. “Oh, he does. Milky white, and soft all over.”

“Gah!” Ron said, putting his fingers in his ears until they promised not to discuss Malfoy’s attributes any further.

“So what made you decide this was a good idea?” she asked. “Or is it one of those boy things? Like, you’re horny, he’s horny, you have an empty house, bow chicka wow wow?”

“I don’t know,” Harry mused. “He was being Malfoy, you know, but somehow it wasn’t quite as obnoxious as it used to be.”

“Because he was naked?” Ron asked. “I’d think that would make it worse.”

“No,” Harry said. “Because he was...I don't know. Still Malfoy, but a little…vulnerable. Snape had to get him out of the Manor and now he's on the run. I got the impression he isn't safe anymore since he couldn’t kill Dumbledore. And when I asked him if he would’ve done it, he admitted he wouldn’t have been able to.”

“Assuming he was being honest and not just trying to avoid getting hexed.” Ron snitched a bit of bagel from Hermione’s plate and tossed it in his mouth. He spoke around it. “It’d be like him to lie.”

Hermione grimaced at him. “Chew first. Speak after.”

Harry shrugged. “I just got the impression he was telling the truth. He didn’t seem to want to admit it. Not being able to kill isn’t something to brag about if you’re a Death Eater, I guess.”

“And you went from ‘hey, would you have killed Dumbledore?’ to ‘hey, let’s shag?’” Hermione asked. “That’s quite a leap.”

Harry licked his lips. Put like that, it sounded sort of bad. “Yeah, pretty much.”

She rolled her eyes. “Boys.”

Ron gave him a slightly pained look. “If it was anyone else, mate, I’d say well done.”

Harry shifted uncomfortably, aiming a look up through the ceiling in the general direction of his bedroom, where Malfoy was currently sleeping in his bed.“But actually, the whole thing was…nice.”

“Nice,” Hermione repeated.

“I’m not hearing this,” Ron said, putting more food in his face as if that would help.

“Just…nice?” Hermione asked. It was impossible to tell if she was being her typical self and searching out half-truths or simply fishing for details.

“All right,” Harry said. “And I’ll apologize in advance, Ron, because you’re gonna hate this, but it was fucking amazing. He was nervous and a little shy and after he stopped arguing with me and gave in, he just melted. He just let me do whatever I…and he kisses like…and it was… he just _gives_. Like he’s lost in it. God, it was the hottest thing ever.”

Ron and Hermione were staring at him now, Ron with a bit of half-chewed bagel on his tongue.

“That is nice,” Hermione said faintly.

Harry realized he was hard just thinking about it. He shifted on his seat, cleared his throat, and Ron smirked, apparently figuring out what the problem was. Hermione mostly looked thoughtful.

Harry’s stomach twisted. “It’s Malfoy. I know that. Now that my brain is clear, I really know that. Maybe it was the whole ‘naked boy in the shower’ thing _.”_

“Maybe it’s the whole enemies thing,” Hermione said.

“Hate sex,” Ron said, nodding knowingly.

“What do you know about hate sex?” Hermione asked Ron.

The tips of Ron’s ears went red. “We’re talking about Harry’s problems right now, Hermione. Be a friend, won’t you?”

She glared at him, but let it go. Ron gave Harry a look of relief and Harry grinned before saving his best mate by moving on.

“As for the enemies thing?” Harry asked, shrugging. “Maybe that explains why I wanted to shag him in the first place. I don’t know if I’d call it hate sex. I kind of wondered if he would be snotty and pretentious and cold in bed, and maybe if he was then it would be hate sex. But he’s not like that, not at all.”

“So is he staying?” Hermione asked.

“No,” Ron said flatly. “It’s funny and all that Malfoy let you shag him, Harry, but he’s a ferret and a git and a Death Eater, and he has no business being here while we’re doing what we’re doing.”

“I told him he could rest here,” Harry said. “I think he was up all night.”

“So give him a few hours to get his beauty sleep, tell him it was lovely, and kick his arse out,” Ron said, rubbing his hands together as if wiping the problem away.

“Right,” Harry said.

Hermione studied him carefully. “Right.”

*

Harry snuck into his room a half-hour later, closing the door tightly behind him and trying to walk quietly. The curtains were closed, leaving puddles of deep shadow on the floor and in the corners, and he could barely make out Malfoy’s form on the bed. Harry’s eyes slowly adjusted, and when he stood over the other boy, he realized that Malfoy looked considerably younger when he was sleeping.

The pale hair was disordered, the lines of strain on his face more relaxed, his mouth soft and innocent.

With a small smile on his lips, Harry dropped his pajamas and pants. He slid into bed, tugging blankets over himself and scooting up close behind the other boy to wrap an arm around him. Malfoy didn’t stir. He must’ve been really tired, and he’d only been sleeping about an hour.

Well, that was a perfect opportunity then, wasn’t it?

Harry reached under the covers, found the waistband of Malfoy’s pants and gently eased them down, tugging a bit when necessary, very pleased when he was able to strip him naked without even a whisper of awareness. He tossed the pants—silk, of course—onto the floor and slid back up to lie behind him.

Harry let his hand stroke over one lean arm, feeling the soft skin Hermione had mentioned, enjoying the brush of small hairs, the warmth of firm flesh. He leaned his head closer and inhaled, liking the scent of soap and Malfoy immensely. He let his tongue trace the line of the other boy’s shoulder before burying his face in all that silky hair.

He eased closer, his erection coming to rest naturally against the crease between Malfoy’s tight buttocks. He pulled on the other boy’s torso a bit, rocking the smaller boy back against him, surprised at how light Malfoy was. Harry was only a couple inches taller, but he was built broader and had quite a bit more muscle; comparatively, Malfoy was almost delicate.

It made Harry feel strong. Powerful. Perhaps even protective.

And definitely aroused. He closed his teeth gently on the curve between neck and shoulder.

Finally, the other boy showed signs of waking up. Malfoy shifted and sighed before stilling again.

Harry ran his hand slowly down the slope of Malfoy’s torso, finding the slight ridge of pectoral, faint bump of ribs, and flat belly immensely exciting. The fine trail of hair that ran from navel to groin was springy. Harry’s fingers traced this spot over and over, spanning out to stroke along a hipbone, down a thigh, and then back up to belly again.

His mouth continued to trail kisses and licks on every bit of skin within reach, occasionally nipping lightly at taut muscle and an earlobe.

Malfoy wasn’t awake, Harry reminded himself. It was wrong to just grope him while he was sleeping, right? It would certainly be wrong to ease him onto his back and spread his legs while he was sleeping. And Malfoy was bound to screech if he woke up with Harry already inside him, wasn’t he?

But fuck, the kid was a deep sleeper.

Harry set about waking him up in such a way that Malfoy would be unwilling to complain. If there was a way to make Malfoy unwilling to complain.

So he let his hands get more forceful, pulled Malfoy’s upper thigh back over his own hip, opening the other boy’s groin fully to his touch. He stroked down and found… _yes._

Malfoy was half-hard already.

And starting to move. He arched slightly, making a sound that was part sigh and part confusion. The lean body was languid in Harry’s arms, pliable in the best way, a sharp contrast with the cock in his hand. Harry kept gently working his hand even as his own hips started to roll against Malfoy’s arse. His teeth bit down on the other boy’s earlobe and Malfoy’s body jerked.

Harry lifted his head and saw the exact moment Malfoy woke up fully. The grey eyes opened in sleepy surprise, his body immediately tensing, his face tightening in…fear?

“Easy,” Harry soothed, willing Malfoy to recognize his voice. “I’m not going to hurt you, Malfoy. You’re safe. Let me take care of you.”

Harry kept his hand moving on Malfoy’s cock, as he murmured reassurance, kept his hips moving against those firm buttocks, interspersed words with mouthing along the elegant neck and shoulders.

And Malfoy moaned. There was something rather beautiful about the way his entire being surrendered when he realized who was holding him, going hot and soft like warmed syrup, curving back around Harry as if he were boneless.

Harry was immediately harder than he’d ever been in his life. The first time they’d fucked, Malfoy’d done that, if to a slightly lesser extent. Harry’d kissed him, hard and fierce, and Malfoy had simply melted, and it happened again now. Malfoy, the boy who’d never let Harry so much as take a breath without a battle, gave his body up to Harry’s hands with abandon.

Harry thought he could become addicted to that.

He growled and let go of Malfoy’s cock, ignoring the soft sigh of protest. Slowly, he turned Malfoy onto his side again, freeing himself up to move a bit more. He summoned lube with his wand and grabbed the vial impatiently. He spilled a good third of it on the sheets, cursing and making Malfoy jump.

“Shh,” Harry murmured into his ear. “Easy.”

When he’d finally gotten his cock and fingers lubricated, he eased Malfoy’s leg back into place over his hip. He slipped a finger between the other boy’s buttocks, finding the entrance and stroking gently. When Malfoy tensed slightly, Harry shifted so that his left arm, the one he was lying on, slid under Malfoy’s body and curved up and around, securing him tightly to Harry’s chest.

“That’s good,” he whispered, his tone reassuring. “God, you smell good. And look how pretty you are. Christ, you’ve got a pretty arse.”

Malfoy relaxed again under Harry’s voice, arching into his finger as it slipped inside. Harry pushed in and out a few times, licking up to the spot just under Malfoy’s ear. He slid a second finger in and began to stretch the hole with slow, careful movements. The other boy would be sore; he’d had his first time just over an hour ago, and Harry hadn’t been particularly gentle by the end.

Malfoy was breathing faster now, his hands clenched around the forearm Harry had locked around his torso.

“Potter,” he murmured.

“I know,” Harry soothed. “I know what you need. I just have to get you ready. I don’t want to hurt you, and that means I have to open you up first. But God, I’m going crazy here. You’re sucking my fingers in, did you know that? You want it so bad, don’t you?”

Harry twisted his wrist, finding that spot, and Malfoy cried out, pushing his arse back, thighs tensing, his head going back. Harry looked down the long line of his body, found every muscle standing out in sharp relief, the boy’s long legs sprawled open, his cock iron hard and dripping.

“You’re beautiful,” Harry growled into his ear. “Your whole body’s begging for it. You want me in you, don’t you?”

“Potter,” Malfoy groaned. “Please.”

“Oh, I will. I’m going to fuck you so sweet, I promise. But not yet.”

He pushed a third finger into Malfoy’s arse, loving the feel of that slender body bucking against his. Harry shook his head a little, trying to clear it. His cock pounded as he pressed against Malfoy’s cheeks, and he could already tell that if he didn’t get a grip, this was going to be fast and rough, probably more than Malfoy could take this soon after the first time.

Breathe, he told himself.

But when he did, all he got was Malfoy’s scent, which only made him harder.

He wanted nothing more than to force himself into Malfoy’s arse right then and pound. To forestall this, he took his fingers out of Malfoy’s body and instead reached around to grasp the other boy’s cock. He began to stroke, relishing the moans and small gyrations of the slender hips against his. Soon Malfoy was moving like water in his arms, thrusting into his palm, head tipped back, soft, wild noises coming from his throat.

When Harry released his cock, Malfoy let out a cry of frustration and grabbed for his hand.

Harry managed to chuckle around his own impatience—he was so hard now it was beginning to hurt. He put a little more lube on his fingers and cock (half of what he’d had was on Malfoy’s cock or spread across skin that didn’t need lubrication at all) and eased back into Malfoy’s body with three fingers, making the other boy jolt.

“Sweet and gentle, yes?” Harry asked, even as Malfoy let out a rough moan. The slender body was nearly writhing now. “No? You want it harder, Malfoy?”

“Please,” the other boy whispered.

“I can do that,” Harry bit out. “I can fuck you hard, Malfoy, if that’s what you want. I’ll make you feel me for a week. You’ll never forget what it’s like to have my cock in your arse.”

“Yes,” Malfoy moaned, and Harry lost the last of his patience.

“Reach down,” he murmured. “Grab your cheeks for me, Malfoy. Spread yourself open for my cock.”

Malfoy trembled in his arms, and Harry nearly couldn’t wait. But slowly, Malfoy eased his hands down and back. He had a little trouble with his left, which was pressed to the bed a bit, but Harry shifted his weight to free them both up, and soon Malfoy’s cheeks were wide apart.

“You look so good like that,” Harry gritted, staring in fascination. “I can see your little hole, Malfoy, all pink and eager. Look how bad you want it. Willing to hold yourself open, willing to show me what a little slut you are for it, hmm?”

Malfoy wasn’t trembling anymore so much as shaking. When Harry began to ease in, the other boy’s entire body clenched. Somehow, Harry found the will to pause.

“Relax, little cat. Easy does it. Breathe.” He ran a calming hand down Malfoy’s quivering flank, then smiled. “Breathe, Malfoy.”

A gasping breath, and Harry smirked. He fucking _loved_ Malfoy like this, crazy with lust and falling apart in his arms.

Then Harry was pushing in again, using Malfoy’s hip to steady himself. His eyes closed at the feel of the other boy’s arse—tight, hot, and slick. He could feel the backs of Malfoy’s fingers where he was holding himself open, and that, more than anything else, that tangible reminder of how desperate Malfoy was for it, was what broke his control.

He began to thrust before he was even firmly seated, knocking Malfoy’s hands away to get closer. He pulled Malfoy’s thigh back farther and pumped, hard and fast.

“You’re so tight,” he growled. “I could watch you move all day. You take it so sweet. You were made to fuck, Malfoy. Just look at you, all spread out and taking it like a slut. You love this, don’t you? My cock in your arse, shoving into you, forcing you open. Yeah, you love it. You were built for this. Meant to be my slut.”

“Yes,” Malfoy gasped. “Yes, Harry.”

Harry’s teeth clenched. He shoved Malfoy aside for a second, wrenching himself out with regret, and lumbering up to throw Malfoy onto hands and knees beneath him. Nearly snarling, he hauled Malfoy’s thighs wide. He shoved himself back in, watching the long, pale back arch through the first few thrusts. He went deep, riding Malfoy hard, and it wasn’t enough.

He gripped Malfoy’s hair with one hand and wrapped his other arm around that slender torso, wrenching the other boy upwards so they were both kneeling. The angle made everything sharper. The pressure on his cock was nearly overwhelming, but he couldn’t get close enough. Nothing was enough. He couldn’t touch enough skin, reach enough flesh, fill Malfoy enough. He would go mad first.

Harry sank his teeth into the white throat as his hips pumped. He fucked Malfoy—there was no other word for it at this point—holding him tightly in place, the other boy’s head pulled back sharply. Still wasn’t enough.

He lifted Malfoy roughly with both arms around his waist, edging them a step towards the headboard, where he threw the smaller boy against the wood. Now they had a source for balance. He had leverage, and he used it, ramming into Malfoy almost violently.

A part of Harry’s brain knew he was being far too rough; that part tried desperately to slow it down. The other part simply reached down and took hold of Malfoy’s cock. He began to pump.

“You’re so hard, Malfoy. It must be because you like this. You like having me fuck you, don’t you?”

“Y-yes, Harry,” Malfoy cried. He was nearly sobbing, and his hips jerked furiously, forward into Harry’s fist, then back onto Harry’s cock. “Please. Please, it’s too much. I can’t take it.”

“No?”

“I’m…I’m scared.”

“Shh,” Harry murmured. That choice of adjectives gave him the ability to find a last shred of sanity. It was only Malfoy's second time having sex, and they hadn't been nearly this rough earlier. Of course he would feel overwhelmed. Harry eased up as much as he could—which wasn’t much, but it was all he could do with his blood rushing in his ears. “You can do it. You’re so sweet like this, Malfoy. You take it so well. Such a good boy. Look how pretty you are like this. My good boy.”

Malfoy writhed against him, making wild sounds, eyes clenched tightly, his whole body strung taut as sinew.

“Just let it happen,” Harry whispered hotly, directly into his ear. “Take it all. This is what you are, little cat. Perfect and sweet and made to fuck. You can do it. God, I could fuck you forever.”

And Malfoy came. His cry was loud, euphoric, desperate, and his entire body shuddered so hard that Harry nearly lost his balance. Come spilled over his fingers, and the scent of sex grew stronger. Then Malfoy collapsed back into Harry’s arms, his shuddering warmth abruptly indolent, reminiscent of how he’d been when Harry had first woken him, warm and sleepy and soft, and he wanted this.

He wanted Malfoy.

He lifted his hand, tasted the come on his fingers, Malfoy’s come, and felt himself explode.

Harry came wildly, pounding Malfoy’s arse, growling his pleasure into the other boy’s neck, hands tight enough to bruise such slender hips.

After a minute, he pulled out, feeling light-headed. He winced a little at Malfoy’s whimper of pain, and reached for his wand. A quick healing spell assuaged his guilt, a few cleansing spells got them and the bed back in order, and he sank under the sheets sleepily, pulling the blond boy back into his arms.

“Wait,” Malfoy protested.

“Shut up,” Harry said around a yawn. “You’re in my bed. You’ll sleep how I want to sleep.”

“Oh, will I?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, smirking at the utter lack of annoyance in the drawl. Malfoy was entirely too sated to work up the proper bitchiness.

“At least this time I’ll get a full eight hours,” Malfoy muttered, and Harry frowned.

“I’m going to wake you up in another hour,” he said.

“What?” Malfoy twisted, like he might try to get away, but Harry wouldn’t let him.

“You don’t understand, do you?” Harry asked, and sighed as if he were disappointed.

“Understand what?” Malfoy asked, sounding a little worried.

“I’ve decided I like fucking you, little cat.” Harry settled in, tugging the smaller boy even closer.

Malfoy shivered. “Don’t call me that.”

“I’ll call you what I like. You’re in my bed, remember?”

Malfoy didn’t answer, but Harry could almost feel the wheels turning in the boy’s mind.

“You’re worrying too much,” Harry said, starting to think he might actually manage to sleep for the hour if they didn’t end up fighting. “It won’t always be this rough. Maybe next time I’ll take you slow and easy. Would you like that? Hmm? My cock, moving warm and gentle inside you?”

Malfoy’s breath caught. “Stop it.”

Harry nuzzled his neck with his nose. “You smell good, you know? It’s soap, and Malfoy, and now me. You’ve got me all over you, Malfoy. Inside you, on your skin…” He reached up, grasped that pointed chin and forced Malfoy to turn his head. He kissed the other boy gently, coaxing his lips open, stroking with his tongue until Malfoy reluctantly began to kiss back.

“I love the taste of you,” Harry whispered.

“What are you doing?” Malfoy asked.

“Kissing you,” Harry said, amused. “You’re not that innocent.”

Malfoy shook his head. “That’s not what I mean and you know it.”

Harry paused. “I’m seducing you.”

“We _just_ did that.”

Harry smiled. Malfoy sounded so put out.

“That not what I mean and you know it,” Harry mimicked. Malfoy pokered up, his spine starting to tighten and Harry sighed.

“I’m making sure you’re predisposed to another round,” Harry said. “It turns out I like having you in my bed. It’s in my best interest for you to like being here. And I’m an affectionate guy with people I’m sleeping with. Try not to take it personally.”

Malfoy didn’t seem to know what to make of that, but he slowly relaxed as Harry kissed him gently, stroking his hands over his body. He ran his fingers through that silky hair, dug his thumbs into Malfoy’s neck, and enjoyed the feel of the boy slowly turning into butter against him.

“You must really need this,” Harry said softly.

“Mmm. What?” Malfoy asked faintly.

“Someone to take care of you. Someone to be gentle with you.”

Malfoy’s jaw clenched and he tried to pull away. “I don’t need anyone.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Harry admonished mildly, holding on. “And there’s nothing wrong with it.” He continued to stroke and rub and pet the other boy, kissing lightly along his neck and cheek.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “I’m not going to hurt you, Malfoy.”

“Like I would let you,” Malfoy muttered.

Harry grinned and cast a quick tempus charm. “You should get some sleep, little cat. You’ve only got forty-nine minutes now.”

“You are not waking me up in another hour, Potter. I’ll kill you.”

“Every hour on the hour.”

“I should’ve stayed at the Manor,” Malfoy grumbled.

“Probably,” Harry said cheerfully. “Because now, your arse is mine. And I have every intention of using it as often as I can.”

“You’re a possessive bastard, aren’t you?” Malfoy asked quietly.

“I suppose so.”

“I’m leaving tonight.”

Harry’s gut clenched. “Maybe. We’ll see.”

“Potter.”

“Maybe,” Harry said again.

“Your minions okay with the Savior of the Wizarding World fucking a Death Eater?”

“They think we’re an example of hate sex.”

Malfoy paused. When he spoke, he sounded utterly, completely casual—utter proof in Harry’s mind that he truly cared about the answer. “Are we?”

“No.”

For a moment, Maloy just breathed quietly. Then he asked, “So you don’t think they’re going to throw a fit when they realize we’ve done this again?”

“They already know.”

Malfoy’s head whipped around. “How?”

“Well, you’re pretty loud when you come.”

Malfoy elbowed him in the gut. Hard.

“Christ, Malfoy, you’re a pointy git! It’s like you’ve got an ice pick instead of an elbow. I think I’m bleeding.”

Malfoy laughed. A genuine, warm laugh that Harry had never heard from him before. Almost made the hole in his stomach worth it.

Harry kissed his neck again. “We’ll figure it out, okay? Now would you please go to sleep? I’m tired, and I have to get up in forty-seven minutes to fuck you again.”

Malfoy just kept laughing.


End file.
